


Acid

by the_punk_ghost_girl



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 01:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1761401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_punk_ghost_girl/pseuds/the_punk_ghost_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was supposed to make him feel at bliss. That's what the girl with too much black lipstick on told him. And after seeing his best friend chatting up with some Hispanic boy, that's all he wanted to feel. Anything but sadness. Well, the girl forgot to mention that it's different for everyone. And it was certainly different for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acid

Michael Jones sat atop a quartz-crafted counter within the kitchen, his legs swung back and forth, hitting against the cabinets underneath, and his hands were clasped together in between his thighs. His light brown eyes glanced towards the green numbers that flashed on the microwave. Twelve twenty-nine became twelve thirty. Signifying not only thirty minutes he had lost sight of his best friend, Gavin Free, but also signifying how long it had been since he sampled something a random girl with too much black lipstick on offered him. The redheaded twenty-three-year-old knew very well that what he was given was in fact acid, or LSD as it is more commonly referred to, but he did not care within the least. Why, after seeing his best friend chatting with some dark-haired Hispanic male, what did he have to care about?

Therefore that is how he ended up wandering into the kitchen, tears brimmed in his eyes, and then he tripped over the girl. Who herself was waiting for her own trip to take effect. She offered him some as well, saying that it would pull him into a state of bliss, and as much as the voice in his head that sounded a lot like his companion told him not to take it. He ignored that little British accent. The brown-haired man inside his head might care about him, but the one in reality did not obviously.

The girl informed him that the effect of the drug took thirty to ninety minutes before it demanded to be felt. Michael just hoped to God he did not see Gavin before the drug began to blur his vision and put him into a state of peaceful sleep-awake. If he saw the young British man before he’d figure he would either hurt him or do something unthinkably affectionate. In which sought Michael to slightly thank whoever the man that was chatting up Gavin in keeping him stalled in finding the redhead. It was for the best, in all brutal honesty.

As Michael continued to sit on the kitchen counter, small changes began to occur. Chills shivered down his spine and goose bumps rose to the surface of his skin. The room of sixty degrees was suddenly too cold for him, but he did not want to remove himself from the counter top to move into a warmer place. Therefore he just tightly wrapped his arms around himself to try and keep at a pleasant state of body temperature. Slowly, his heart beat began to thunder and his breathing became hitched. As if he had been running when the most moving was he doing was squirming around when he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket, which it was doing a lot as of late.

Music that once was distant, as it came from the living room, and had a nice beat to it turned much more defined. As well as much more growl-like. Like if someone had changed it to hardcore metal screaming. The kind of music that did not bother Michael much, in fact he was a fan of a few bands like that. But now it was just frightful. The loud, demonic roars hurled their sound into his ears which caused terror to crawl up his back and claw at the nape of his neck where hair began to stand on its ends.

His light brown eyes darted all around him, he brought his knees to his chest, and he placed his hands over his ears. Sure, this tactic was something little kids did, but it made him feel safer than if he were to simply sit there to listen to the deep voices of his greatest nightmares. It was as if watching a glass bobble drop from a considerably high height in slow motion then shatter upon contact with the floor. Each piece of glass shot into a different location than another individual piece, all had a different destination to be. That is what it was like.

The redheaded man felt the familiar tremble in his back pocket, which with a newfound fear snuggled deep into his bones, caused him to jump off of the counter. He took the rumbling object out of his pocket and set it on the counter gently before slowly backing away from it to then sit on the tiled floor. The loud growls continued to consume his slightly blocked hearing, which caused him to press his hands closer to his ears without crushing his skull in the process. His light brown gaze still darted around the room in deep alarm. Dark figures began to pass by him without noticing his presence which caused fear to claw into the back of his neck even deeper, deep enough that the bone showed and went cold as the air of the outside hit against it. One shadowed figure became two, and two became three, and three quickly escalated into twenty it seemed. The clattering that sounded a lot like skeletons being smashed together made whatever food he had consumed in the last hour or so make its way up his throat. Luckily it did not spill.

Soon enough, all the noise and the movement became too much. His bright pink, lush lips parted and from his throat raised a horror-filled scream. It was high-pitched for a man of his age, but not too high. He screamed and screamed until his voice went raw. That’s when he simply sat there on the white tiled floor, hands still covering precious ears, mouthing to himself ‘help me,’ ‘help me,’ in hopes that someone, anyone would come for him.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

Gavin stumbled into the kitchen, thanking God that he finally escaped the grasp of the Hispanic man. Sure, the man was pleasant. He was not drunk and he did not try to shove himself into the Brit’s pants like a lot of people that night, but the brunet-haired boy needed to find his companion. He took a swig from the cup of beer he still had in his hand before setting it down. A flash of light caught his eye and he turned his gaze towards the lit up screen of an iPhone.

The background picture of the iPhone was of him and Michael. Michael wore his British flag printed shirt while Gavin wore an American flag printed shirt. Both boys had the biggest and cheesiest smiles on their faces. The screen was trying to inform the owner that they had four missed calls from none other than the little British man. Yep, the phone was Michael. But where was he? Gavin pocketed the phone and looked about the room until someone with red hair tucked away into a familiar beanie caught the corner of his eye. Ah, there was that little minge.

“Michael…” his voice was gentle; the redhead’s shoulder shook as if he were sobbing. This turned out to be true as the twenty-three-year-old lifted his head to stare at his friend, and tears streamed down his reddened cheeks. A look of pure despair quickly changed into one of hope. As if he was some sort of damsel in distress who was looking into the eyes of the one about to save them. Except, why was he looking him like that?  Gavin wondered. He crouched down in front of Michael so that they could be at equal eye level. When he did this, his American companion immediately threw himself onto him. Hugging his neck and burying his head into his shoulder.

“Please get me out of here, Gavin, please. It’s too much. It’s too much.” Michael whimpered into the fabric of his black t-shirt. This was strange of the auburn-haired boy. What was he in sudden fear of? Yet, the Brit knew all too well that now was not the time for questions. With Michael trembling in his embrace, he knew all his questions could be answered at a different point in time. Right now, he needed to make sure his boy was okay.

“Alright, I’ll get you out of here, just hold onto my hand.” he instructed the older, he felt him nod against his shoulder, and Gavin stood to his feet. Holding out his hand for Michael to grab ahold of, when the brown-eyed boy was pulled to his shaky legs, he interlocked his fingers with Gavin’s. Another thing the brown-haired boy found odd, but it was oddly satisfying. Holding hands like that, like a legitimate couple. But right now was no time for soft feelings, the longer he felt Michael trembling, the more concerned Gavin became. Therefore it was time to leave. He led his companion out of the house, muttering ‘excuse me,’ to the people that stood in his way. Then he led Michael to his small white car, and he opened the passenger’s car door for him while the American boy climbed in. He shut the door quietly and gently, fully aware that even the littlest scared him. Like a kitten in a new home and the mother has just decided to vacuum. The British young man climbed into the driver’s seat, buckled himself in, and turned on the 90s Alternative station on Pandora on a respectfully low volume. In hopes that it would calm both himself and Michael down a bit and it did. As the third time Gavin glanced at his partner in crime he found that he was asleep. Exhausted he with all the crying and adrenaline, Gavin figured.

Soon enough the white car was pulled into the parking lot outside the apartment complex where Michael’s home was located. Gavin tapped on the slumbering young man’s shoulder. Light brown eyes glistened in the low light of the lamp post hung above. A small smile creased his lips. “Come on, Michael, we’re home.” he murmured as he stepped out of the car and closed the door quietly once again. He walked over to the opposite side of the car and opened the door for his friend once again. As they walked into the apartment building and towards the elevator, Gavin felt Michael slip his hand into his own once again. The hazel-eyed young man looked over at his partner and he felt the same soft feeling as before wash over him. No, still not quite the right time for this sort of thing. Yet, Michael seemed sober enough to notice the question in his hazel orbs.

“I just feel safer when I hold your hand.” his usually loud, obnoxious voice that Gavin loved dearly was much softer now. Almost sing-song like, it was different, but it was an adorable kind of different.

Nope,   
still not the right time for soft feelings.

 They exited the lift and walked towards the apartment marked 303, Gavin pulled his lanyard from out underneath his shirt and inserted the correct key into the lock. He held open the door for Michael just as he had been doing all night and he flickered on the lights which startled Michael a bit. The redhead sort of stumbled over to the living room, and watched with wide eyes as Gavin made himself some tea and Michael some coffee. He blew on the cup of coffee for a bit to make sure that it was cool enough so that the older didn’t accidentally burn his tongue.

“Michael,” Gavin spoke gently once again, the auburn-haired boy looked up from sipping his coffee with those beautiful brown eyes of his.

“Yes?” Michael wondered, the coffee that was in his mouth dripped out as he spoke. Seemingly forgetting that he had taken a drink and needed to swallow; Gavin made a ‘tsk’ sound with his tongue three times before looking around for something to clean the boy’s mouth with. Finally, he just huffed tiredly and took off his shirt to use as a towel to wipe around Michael’s lips. The Brit was thankful the American kept his eyes locked on his own as he was extremely insecure about his body image.

“What happened tonight? Why were you so scared when I found you?” he questioned slowly, in case the boy was simply a bit drunk and couldn’t quite understand properly. Gavin placed his t-shirt over the roll of pure skin that poked out as he sat down. God, how he really needed to tone his stomach, he told himself.

“Well, after I saw you talking to that Mexican guy I sort of got sad and so I went to the kitchen. Then I tripped over a girl with too much black lipstick on. Like sure, I understand if you want to mix it with red to make a dark red, but just pure black lipstick. Like hell wear it if it makes you happy, me personally though I don’t like that. Then again I don’t really like girls in the first place, but anyway. She saw that I was like kind of crying, and offered me acid. I know you have a problem with drugs, but something inside my head told me you didn’t care anymore. So, I took it. She said it would put me in a state of bliss, and I believed her. But it doesn’t do that at all. I mean, I feel blissful now, but like earlier. I was terrified, everything was so loud and dark and it was horrible. I’m sorry, Gavin, I’m so sorry.” by the end of his explanation, Michael was crying once again. Absentmindedly, the Brit opened his arms for his companion to fall into for comfort.

There was so much in that explanation that he had to process.

One: his companion, Michael Jones, just admitted to him that he was homosexual. Gavin knew that his redhead was at least bi-curious. Fuck, the two of them had kissed before. Once when Michael was incredibly drunk, but Gavin was not. Yet, because Michael was so hammered that night he didn’t remember sharing lips with the younger boy.

Two: Michael took acid, which angered and saddened Gavin greatly. It angered him, because he sure as Hell did not want his best friend to get addicted then be sent to rehab like his late brother. It saddened him, because of the reason Michael had taken the drug. He had seen him chatting with Ray. It had upset him. Not only have that, but it also made Michael thought that he didn’t care about him anymore. Gavin felt as if one of his heart strings had been tugged on and nearly broken if not a bit bent out of place.

The two of them stayed like that for what seemed like forever. Michael’s tears splashed onto his bare, slightly tanned torso. But Gavin didn’t care. He would stay with his little Mi-cool for all eternity just to comfort him and make sure he was alright. Soon enough, the American had fallen asleep once again after exhausting himself. His sobs turning into silent tears then into little hiccups, God, Michael was even pretty when he cried.

Alright,   
now was the time for soft feelings.

As Gavin stared up at the ceiling in the dim light of the apartment living room, one arm behind his head and another wrapped around the slumbering boy, he began to evaluate his emotions. There were two things he realized in a span of about five minutes.

One: he either really, really liked Michael as more than any best friend ever. Or he loved him. Like, loved him, loved him. The kind of love you see in cheesy romance movies. The kinds of love even the coldest of people desire for, a love basically like a cool friendship, but with a lot more affection.

Two: he desperately hoped that Michael was legitimately homosexual and did legitimately like him or even love him in the same mannerism.

Without much thinking, he lifted his head and kissed Michael’s dark ginger curls before laying back and closing his hazel eyes. One could only imagine what would happen the next morning.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

Michael awoke with the feeling of skin on his cheek. He blinked open his eyes and surveyed the room. Alright, that part he had not dreamed up. He was still indeed in the comfort of his own home. Next thing he did was realize that whatever he was laying on was moving. Michael moved his head so that his chin now rested on…the chest of his best friend Gavin. Alright, so he hadn’t dreamed that part either. His heart fluttered as he felt Gavin’s arm wrapped protectively around his waist.

Alright,   
he had definitely comedown from the trip.

Well, at least a little bit. Nothing seemed to be too terrifying, and he figured that if he was still tripping badly like the previous night he would have been frightened by Gavin’s chest moving beneath him as the British boy breathed. Michael’s light brown gaze began to move about the room once more, the cups of coffee and tea were still placed on the coffee table in front of the couch where the two lay. God, had Gavin been so sweet enough to have dealt with his momentary trip of terror as well as drive him home then make him coffee?

Was now the time for soft feelings?  
Yeah,   
it was time for soft feelings.

Michael removed himself off of the torso-naked boy, gathered the two cups, and walked into the kitchen. He turned on the radio and tiredly waited for the tea to finish being automatically poured into the little teacup. A little teacup Gavin had gifted him on Christmas a year ago. Saying that the teacup was special to him just like Michael was. This memory caused the ginger to blush at the tips of his ears. Overhead he could see the top of Gavin’s bed hair stick up from behind the couch. He smiled to himself before pulling the tea close to his lips so that he could blow on it.

“Shit, Michael?!” Gavin screamed in concern, the tuff of hair that was in Michael’s view turned from side to side as the Brit searched for him.

“I’m right here, Gav.” The American reassured his companion, who sat up as straight as he could so that he could see the ginger from over the couch.

“Oh thank God,” breathed Gavin before swinging his legs over the couch and walking to the counter top that was halfway in the kitchen and halfway out. Michael pushed his cooled off tea towards him. He noticed the light blush that appeared on his companion’s cheeks which only made him blush as well. God, Gavin was just too adorable for his own good.

“How do you feel? Are you coming down?” the brunet-haired boy wondered as he sipped at the perfectly-temperature cup of tea.

“Mm, I think I’ve come down for the most part. I’m just incredibly tired.” Michael mumbled as he sipped his own cooled off drink. Light brown eyes watched as the British suddenly tore his gaze away from him as he stared down at the cup.

“What’s wrong, Gavin?” the redheaded boy questioned, knowing his companion’s body language better than anyone else ever.

“It’s just…do you remember what you told me last night?” Gavin answered slightly, connecting his hazel gaze with light brown eyes once more.

_“Well, after I saw you talking to that Mexican guy I sort of got sad and so I went to the kitchen. Then I tripped over a girl with too much black lipstick on. Like sure, I understand if you want to mix it with red to make a dark red, but just pure black lipstick. Like hell wear it if it makes you happy, me personally though I don’t like that. Then again I don’t really like girls in the first place, but anyway. She saw that I was like kind of crying, and offered me acid. I know you have a problem with drugs, but something inside my head told me you didn’t care anymore. So, I took it. She said it would put me in a state of bliss, and I believed her. But it doesn’t do that at all. I mean, I feel blissful now, but like earlier. I was terrified, everything was so loud and dark and it was horrible. I’m sorry, Gavin, I’m so sorry.”_

Michael nodded his head.

“So, are you legitimately gay? Like not just bi-curious?” Gavin wondered quietly, focusing his gaze away from Michael once again.

“Yeah, why?” the redheaded boy quite liked where these questions were going.

“Well, because, I mean…I know you know I’m gay…and I just didn’t think you’d be gay too…and I’m really happy about that, because I-really-like-you-so-much-that-I-think-it’s-love.” The brunet stuttered out the last bit quite fast. Yet, Michael understood each bit of it. He just wanted him to admit it clearer; therefore he choked down his smile.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that last bit?” he reckoned, slowly hazel eyes were connected with light brown as Gavin spoke.

“I really like you so much that I think it’s love…”

Michael smiled and walked around the kitchen counter; once he stood in front of Gavin, he grabbed a hold of his face and pulled it down slightly so that he could connect their lips. This time for real, no alcohol involved, no forgetting this. The kiss was slow and passionate. That kiss had all the feelings of months and months of longing placed into it. Their lips were perfect together. It was like finding a key to a locked door, and inside that locked door were all your favorite things. Their lips moved together perfectly. Like waves crashing onto a sandy shore, not too hard, but not too soft. It was all just right. The two pulled away when air became very necessary to their lungs.

“Wait, what about that Mexican guy you were talking to last night?” Michael asked once they pulled away from the kiss.

“Oh, Ray? He was just talking to me, plus, he’s not my type. I have a very particular type.” Gavin commented. Michael raised his eyebrow at his newfound lover and a smirk of his lips.

“Oh, really? And what is that type, my love?” the ginger-haired boy questioned.

“Short, gingers who have a really bad temper.” The brown-haired boy answered.

“Wherever will you find someone like that?” Mi-cool asked once again.

“Oh, shut up, and come here.” Gav purred before Michael wrapped his arms around Gavin’s torso and the taller boy rested his chin on those auburn curls that smelled like a hint of strawberry. He pressed his lips against those curls before Michael looked at him in the eyes once again, and lips were connected in another sweet kiss.


End file.
